


From Kwapah With Love

by Prassacut



Category: Twilight
Genre: Age Difference, M/M, SlashBackSlash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-09
Updated: 2012-06-09
Packaged: 2017-11-07 09:04:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/429281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prassacut/pseuds/Prassacut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Entry for Slash BackSlash 3.0 * Won Hosts' pick * - You can cross path with the person meant for you and not realize it because the timing is wrong. But the third time's the charm", right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Kwapah With Love

**Author's Note:**

> SLASH BACKSLASH 3.0 CONTEST  
> Title: From Kwapah with love  
> Author: prassacut  
> Pairing: Carlisle/Edward  
> Rating, Disclaimer, and appropriate Warnings: M/I don't own the chars, only their prostates. Slash (obviously)  
> Word Count: 5564
> 
> A/N: Thanks to Malice Slashlover, D&C and WendyK
> 
> Please see all entries at www . /community/ Slash_Backslash_3_0/74941/14/0/1/

The first time I laid eyes on Edward, I didn't care for him. It's not that I disliked him, but he wasn't interesting, to me at least. Women were all over him, and even some men weren't immune to his charms, but I can't say I was one of them. That said, his father was certain Edward was one of the brightest minds ever. He spent two hours telling me all about his son's lunch and how he had said "kwapah" while pointing to his food. Apparently this was very impressive for a ten month-old.

Edward's father and I were friends, had been for a few years. We had met not long before he met his wife, Elizabeth. He had married her rather quickly, having found "the one", whatever that meant, and then Edward was born. I never told him how strange it was to me that he'd named his son after himself; I didn't even know people still did that. There should be a law against that kind of thing.

Edward –the father- (see, it's already confusing. I don't even want to know how they knew who Elizabeth was talking to when she said "Edward"). Anyway, Edward and I drifted away. We were still friends; we'd call each other from time to time to give each other our news, and I'd even have lunch with him when work led me to Seattle. But that was it. He married at twenty-one, was a father at twenty-two - you could say we no longer had the same life. I took pleasure in seeing him, that wasn't the problem, but we didn't have the same interests anymore. He'd talk for endless hours about his child, his wife, his family and how he dealt with everything.

I quickly became bored; it was the same for him. I was twenty-two, wanted to have fun and was focused on my future career. Our lives were just too different. It became better over the years; as I settled more and stopped 'having fun', I could relate to him better. I never ended up with a family of my own. It was harder for a gay man to do than for others, obviously, but I could have, I guess. I had a few serious relationships. I don't regret any of them, but they just didn't work out.

I met Edward -the son - again when he was fifteen. His father had called me two weeks earlier, telling me about Edward coming out to them. They were understanding but lost - his words, not mine – and wanted to know if I could come see them soon and have a talk with their son about his "sexual orientation". I lived in Chicago at the time, and out of friendship I accepted. I still think it was weird to be seen as 'the only gay they knew'. I mean, there were communities and people there to help them and their son; the fact that his train of thought had been 'oh my son is gay, let's call the only other gay I know', was rather baffling to me. I wasn't an expert on being gay. I was just, well, gay.

Once there, I had an awkward conversation with Edward – father and son - and I don't know which of them blushed more. I finally talked to Edward – the son - alone, so he wouldn't be as embarrassed to ask whatever he wanted to know. He was a good-looking kid, a bit gangly, but he had a sharp mind and could say more interesting things than 'kwapah' by then, which was a relief.

I explained to him all about the idiots he'd meet along the way, that a relationship was a relationship whatever the sex of the people involved, and I told him all about safe anal sex. That part was rather inconvenient, and I would have bypassed it altogether if he hadn't been intent on me explaining it to him. That boy could be quite persuasive. I stayed with them for the weekend, and then went back to Chicago.

I'm a lawyer, a decent one I believe, and I love my job. I'm a partner in one of Chicago's biggest law firms. It's not always exciting, but I like helping people, and that's what I do on a daily basis. I can't say I don't feel lonely sometimes but there was nothing I could do about it. Working was as good as the next thing to keep my mind off the fact that I lived in a great but empty place. That was until we decided to expand our firm and different cities were considered; Seattle won. A change sounded good, plus I was the only one without a family of my own, so I agreed to move out there and get things started. A lot of my family lived there, as well as friends, and I liked the idea.

Which led me to now. Now being summer time, at my friend Edward's beach house near Rockaway Beach. When I moved back to Seattle, Edward and Elizabeth were thrilled, and after a few months of nonstop work, their constant invitations to spend a few days with them there sounded rather idyllic. Well, it had ended up being a living hell, actually.

Edward – the son - was… I was a creep. I was lusting after a twenty-two year-old boy. Edward had not only perfected his vocabulary since 'kwapah', he had kept the sharp mind I remembered him having at fifteen, only he wasn't all gangly and awkward anymore. No, he was tall and lean but strong due to years of being part of a swimming team. And, ah, he was all man. A really sinfully good looking one at that.

It would have been much easier for me if he had been a stupid little punk like so many boys of his age. I would have stopped lusting after him the first moment he opened his mouth when I arrived at their house, but no, Edward was clever, brilliant even. I could hold a conversation with him for hours and never be bored. He was interesting, and to my great downfall: he was funny. Cleverly funny. In the end, I was lusting as much after his mind as I was after his body.

That wasn't good. I had been here a week already and I had problems not watching him. I felt bad even wanting him, but we were at a beach house. That meant sea, sun, swim trunks and half-naked Edward all day long. I was forty-four, and lusting after a boy who was the son of a friend no less, made my life difficult.

"Are you brooding again?"

The object of my uncalled-for-affection was standing in front of me, dripping wet from his swim, both hands pulling his hair back to get rid of the excess water. I tried not to gawk, I really did, but I failed again. This situation was making me more uneasy each day. I was past the age of being led by my lust –or so I had thought - and I had a job where I couldn't reveal everything I was thinking. I had mastered that art, but in front of Edward I was just… bad at it, I guess. It was unsettling.

I raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Brooding?"

"Yeah, you're lost in thought and it seems like you're brooding. That or you're trying to find the answer to a really deep mystery."

I chuckled at his words. "Maybe." I looked around, trying to see where everyone was. The truth was that I was trying to stop looking at him, but my gaze always came back to him. That was dangerous. Not literally. I would never jump him, but I was starting to get hard only from having him standing in front of me, and that was simply not acceptable. I stood up. "I'm going for a swim, and I think your father is looking for you."

That was a blatant lie, but I didn't want him to ask if he could join me, as he had earlier this morning. I couldn't have said no, and we'd only swim, but I needed time to think. I knew there was nothing to think about. I only had to keep my perverted thoughts to myself and go on with my life, but the alone time those swims gave me was a great relief.

I stayed in the water for a while. When I got out, Edward was sitting close to my towel. I wasn't up for one of our conversations - he'd say some interesting things and my mind would go into overdrive while I tried not to think about all the things I'd like to do to him. It was a vicious circle, so I just picked up my towel and dried myself before rambling on about getting inside. I was rambling. Me.

I looked at him one last time before leaving to go to my room. I shouldn't have. I choked on my own saliva, then looked around everywhere but at him. I was having reactions I didn't like. This wasn't like me. I was serious and eloquent; I was known for having made lawyers cry. I didn't ramble and choke just from looking at a boy. Even if said boy was sporting a huge erection.

I can't even remember how I got to my room. My brain was full of Edward and his body's reaction to… me? It didn't matter, anyway. I was the adult here. Even if he was attracted to me, and looked at me with lust, it couldn't go anywhere. God, he was making things so difficult. I paced for a few minutes before lying on my bed and rubbing one of my hands on my forehead, trying to make sense of everything. It was one thing to be an old pervert lusting after someone who was way too young. I could at least be in my hell alone; it was another thing to know that he might be attracted to me.

He could have been thinking about anything while I was swimming. Maybe his erection wasn't due to me. Was I even his type? Did he have a type? From what his parents told me, they knew he'd had relationships but he'd never brought anyone to meet them, so it was hard to know if he had a type. He didn't have to have one. I personally didn't have any. I was attracted to some men and not to others. I never wondered about a type. Of course I was wondering about it now, because it was easier to think about stupid things than to admit that Edward was attracted to me.

I'd been hard since I'd laid eyes on him on the beach, just before I ran to my room. I couldn't seem to make it go away. I thought about work, I thought about everything that might help get rid of it, but nothing worked. My cock and brain were fixated on Edward. Edward.

I laughed as I thought about what would happen if I let myself try something with him. I couldn't even picture myself uttering his name while pleasuring myself. I'd automatically see his father. Edward, for me, was his father. He had unknowingly cockblocked me when he named his son. I shouldn't think about Edward while doing that anyway. I hadn't, until now. It had been difficult to avoid, but I had, just so I wouldn't feel as dirty as I actually was.

But that ship had sailed when I saw him hard. I couldn't stop thinking about him and I was so turned on that my cock was already in my hand. I let the tips of my fingers fondle my balls as I palmed myself, before I gripped my hard-on and slowly starting to stroke it. Pictures of Edward invaded my brain, the way he moved -I had rarely met someone as comfortable in his skin as he was- the way he'd trail his hand over his chest to get rid of sand.

I started to wonder how his skin would feel, what sound he'd make as I entered him, how the small of his back would become more hollow as he was bent over, sticking his ass out just a little more to give me better access. I made longer and faster strokes with my hand as the other fondled my balls; my breathing became ragged and I closed my eyes tightly as I pictured my cock deep in his ass and my hand around his cock. I came hard, whispering his name, cum splattering my chest at the exact moment I imagined him coming.

It took me a few minutes to catch my breath, and for my cock to get totally flaccid. My body wanted him more than I could ever remember wanting anyone else. I tried to reason with myself that it was because I couldn't have him, but neither my body nor my mind wanted to hear about it. I stood up to take a shower, trying to forget my little masturbation fantasy, but with no luck. My shower didn't change anything, besides giving me another hard-on that I could barely contain.

I stayed in my room as much as I could, but I knew I'd have to leave eventually. I was a grown man, not a brooding teenager avoiding the outside world. As a guest, staying in there any longer would have been rude. When I got downstairs, I was relieved to see I was alone, and padded to the kitchen to get a drink.

Of course, he had to be there, casually sitting at the table, shirtless as always, and drinking coffee as he read a book. I almost turned around to leave, but decided that it wouldn't do any good, so I quietly opened the fridge to choose something to drink. I couldn't see what was in the fridge, my mind wouldn't let me. All I could do was think of him and how I could feel his eyes on me. Then it wasn't only his eyes I could feel, because he was now standing behind me, his hand next to mine, holding the fridge handle. He was so close to my back that I could feel his body heat.

I froze when I felt his breath against my ear. "Are you going to choose something?"

It took a lot of effort to keep my voice from quivering. "I don't know yet." I finally grabbed a bottle of water and quickly moved away from him until my hips hit the kitchen counter. I gulped some water, trying to regain my calm; some inner calm since I knew I wasn't showing much of the effect he had on me.

Edward was still in front of the open fridge. He turned to me, closing it slowly, and walked over to where I was, stopping before our feet could touch. I gripped the bottle harder, and raised an eyebrow at him, still looking composed, while I was a raging mess on the inside. He smiled softly and took the bottle out of my hand, the action bringing him closer to me.

"Your parents?"

He put one hand on the counter, close to me. Too close to me. "What about my parents?"

I cleared my throat. "I was wondering where they are. They might need help with something." That was really clever, Carlisle. Are you sure about the renowned lawyer part? Because I don't know how you ever won a case with sentences like that.

Edward leaned dangerously close to me. "They left. They won't be back for a long while."

Ah, so the universe was set on seeing me fail. Why now? I had been good at being miserable, and I was content with my one-sided lust. I only had a few days before I left for Seattle, where avoiding Edward would be much easier. Why did he have to try and come after me? Clearly that's what he was doing right now.

"Oh. Where did they go? I didn't hear them leave." I was glad I was able to use a calm and detached voice, but it didn't keep my heart from beating faster when he once again inched closer to me, a knowing smile on his face.

"They went to see some friends." He paused. "The Whiltocks or Withlors? They wanted to go upstairs and tell you, to see if you wanted to join them, but I told them I'd do it."

His smile became bigger at the same time as my face lost its color, or so I guessed. I tried to remain calm as I spoke. "But you didn't tell me."

Edward chuckled. "You seemed to be otherwise… occupied. So I told them you were sleeping. I mean the sun, and the swimming can be very tiring, Carlisle." His face was close to mine when he added, "As does jacking off."

That was when I lost control of my vocabulary and stupidly repeated, "Jacking off?" I was lucky my voice didn't crack, because in that moment he was almost flush against me, his eyes never leaving mine, and I had an erection that I don't think I could get rid of by only masturbating once.

"Yes, jacking off, Carlisle. You know, when your cock is in your hand, and you grasp it with just the right pressure, then you stroke it in an up and down motion." He emphasized the word cock as he spoke. I was transfixed on his face, and my silence seemed to spur him on. "I can't fault you. I do it several times a day, and lately all my little fantasies include you. You can't imagine all the things I make you do."

I swallowed loudly, not able to find my voice, and he grazed his fingers against my erection. That shook me out of my trance. I couldn't let him go on like that. "I'm- I'm going to forget you just said that." That was all I could utter before I left the kitchen.

As if I could forget what he had said. As if my whole body wasn't screaming at me for being a stupid middle-aged man, and leaving him alone in the kitchen instead of giving us what we both wanted.

I heard him behind me as I entered my room but didn't turn around. "Could you please leave, Edward?" I knew that he hadn't moved from his spot, so I repeated myself. "Please?"

He moved, and for a second I didn't know what would crush me more, if he moved to come closer or to leave the room. I didn't have to wonder long about the answer. I felt his hand sneak under my shirt and roam across my chest as he pressed his body to mine, his front to my back. I couldn't miss how hard he was, as his cock rubbed against my ass.

I was happy he couldn't see me, because I must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights. I couldn't move or speak, even if I wanted to tell him to stop and leave. Even if I wanted to tell him to keep going.

"Carlisle."

I groaned. With great difficulty, I took his hands off me and stepped forward, before turning around. "You shouldn't be here, Edward."

He took a step towards me which made me retreat a step, and we continued like that until my thighs hit the small desk standing in front of the window.

"I think I should be here, Carlisle. I know you want me here, too."

I grasped the edge of the desk as he took the final step, his arms around my waist, his hands under my shirt, and his face so close to mine that I could have kissed him just by puckering my lips. I leaned my head back, eyes on the ceiling. How was I supposed to resist him when he was acting like this, when I could feel his cock pressed against my own and when his body and mine were screaming for me to take him?

Edward raised one of his hands and threaded his fingers through my hair before gripping it again. He pushed my head back down until I was looking at him again. Then he kissed me. Tentatively at first, but when he saw that I wasn't pushing him away he became bolder, sneaking his tongue into my mouth, which made me moan. My hands were still gripping the desk, and my fingers were starting to hurt, but I knew I couldn't release my hold on it or I'd throw Edward on the bed and fuck him senseless.

I shouldn't be kissing him. Why was I letting it go on? I should push him away and tell him to leave me alone, but his lips were on mine, and his body was against mine. I had thought about him too much to be able to stop him. My body craved his touch, craved him so much that not doing anything was the best I could do, right now.

I was so lost in his kiss that I hadn't realized he had unbuttoned my shirt until his mouth left mine to kiss and lick my chest. He started undoing my pants, palming my cock in the process. I shivered but regained enough brain power to put my hands on his shoulders and push him away. He was still very close to me, but at least he couldn't kiss me anymore.

"It's not-I can't." I took a deep breath. "We can't, Edward."

Of course, while he was far enough away not to be able to kiss me, he was still close enough to put one of his hands in my pants and grasp my cock.

I whimpered as more lust and pleasure coursed through my body, and he took advantage of my reaction to get closer once again. "We can. I want you. I've been jerking off way too much while thinking about you, Carlisle. I want you to fuck me, now. I want to feel your cock in my ass and I want you to do everything you pictured earlier while you were thinking about me."

He had opened my pants as he spoke and was now stroking me with a sure hand. I can't sleep with him. I can't sleep with him. The words kept repeating in my head until he let go of my cock and stepped out of his swim trunks.

Edward, naked, was a sight to behold. Edward, naked, rubbing against me was impossible to ignore. Edward pushing me back so he could put his hands on the desk, bending over it just enough to give me a great view of his ass, and saying, "Fuck me, Carlisle" was impossible to resist.

Or maybe I could. "I don't have what we need." I wanted him so badly, but lying was probably the only way I'd avoid this train wreck.

He searched his swim trunks and handed me a condom and a small bottle of lube. I closed my eyes and took a shaky breath. He knew he'd cornered me; he was set on making me surrender, and I couldn't resist him any longer. He pleaded for more, asking me to fuck him. I wanted to tell him that I would, as I rolled the condom onto my cock and lubed it. I wanted to say something as I lubed my fingers and pushed them into him, but I couldn't.

I was mesmerized by him. I could only listen to the sounds he made as I added one more finger, I could only focus on what his skin felt like under my hand as I stroked his back and how his skin tasted as I kissed where my hand had been.

I snaked my arm around his torso as I finger fucked him. His head was thrown back and I put my hand on his throat, feeling every vibration as he moaned.

I couldn't have stopped, and I was too far gone to think clearly. My fingers left his ass, and I replaced them with my cock, entering him slowly. My hands gripped his hips, and I threw my head back as I felt his muscles suck me in. Edward was leaning on his elbows now; I pushed on the small of his back as I had fantasized earlier, then I started moving. I watched, entranced, as my cock slid in and out of him. His moans became louder as I fucked him, and I bent over him until I could kiss his back and shoulders.

It was all I had imagined and more. I couldn't get enough of him. I was fucked. There was no way I wouldn't want him more after that. I wanted his body as much as I wanted his mind, and that couldn't end in a good way for me. I slid out of him completely, and before he could say anything I turned him around and kissed him. He understood what I wanted and sat on the desk, his legs wrapping around my waist as I entered him again.

His hands pulled at my hair, and he took me with him as he lay down, his ass hanging on the edge of the desk as I kept fucking him. I felt his lips against my ear as he whispered, spurring me on, asking me to keep fucking him and to do it harder.

I hiked his legs above my arms, put one of my hands on the desk for leverage, and wrapped my other hand around his cock. I stroked him and watched as he writhed underneath me, his hands clutching my forearms, his mouth open on an endless moan.

Edward pulled me to him by my neck, so he could kiss me. It made it difficult to keep stroking his cock, but I did the best I could. He turned his head to whisper in my ear again. It was a jumble of "yes," "like that" and "so good, Carlisle." I trailed my mouth along his neck, kissing and nipping at his skin. I loved his moans, and if I could spend all my time getting those reactions out of him, I'd be a happy man. I leaned back a little to get better access to his cock and stroked him faster. His ass gripped my cock harder, and I almost came at the sensation. Edward threw his head back, his hands finding purchase on each side of the desk, grasping the edges. He came all over his abs, shouting my name. And if his ass spasming on my cock wasn't enough, seeing him like that did the trick. I came seconds after him, and only stopped moving when I had ridden out my orgasm.

I kissed him one last time, and he pulled himself in a sitting position before wrapping his arms around me. I did the same, not wanting to let him go. My boy. That's when it dawned on me; He wasn't my boy. I had fucked Edward, my friend's son Edward. Twenty-two year-old Edward. Was I so far gone that I couldn't resist a piece of ass? But I knew that was far from being the case. He wasn't a piece of ass to me. He was someone I could love, someone I had already started to fall in love with. Maybe that was worse, in a way.

"Stop freaking out, Carlisle."

"How can I not freak out?"

I disentangled myself from him and walked to the bed to sit down. He jumped off the desk, joined me there and motioned for me to scoot up the bed. When I was settled against the headboard, he sat next to my knees, his toes tapping on the headboard near my right shoulder.

"I wanted it, Carlisle."

I looked up, my eyes set on his. "I wanted it, too. That doesn't mean I should have caved."

"I would have pursued you until you did, and I'm pretty charming, so I'd have gotten my way anyway." He gave me a cheeky smile, then became serious again. "I wasn't kidding when I said I wanted you."

I shook my head, and ran a hand over my face. "Well, you got me." I paused. "Maybe now you should leave."

His hand trailed on my knees and thighs. "No. You don't get it. I wanted you. I still want you. All of you."

"I-" I wanted it. I wanted him, too. But he was my friend's son, and he was so young. He waited for me to finish, but I had nothing to say. I was too old for him, or he was too young for me. I felt like a pervert again, and I was tired of feeling that way. "I can't."

"Is it because of the age gap?"

I contained a bitter laugh. "To begin with, yes. You should be with someone your own age, Edward."

He chuckled humorlessly. "Did you listen to yourself just now?"

I looked at him, surprised. "What? You should."

"According to a large percentage of the population, I should be with a woman. Does it mean they're right? Is it wrong for me to like men?"

"No. Of course not! That's preposterous, Edward, and you know it."

He smiled, certainly remembering that "Liking men is alright, and you should never be ashamed of it" were the first words of advice I had given him when he was fifteen. Oh, Lord. I'd known him when he was fifteen. I really was a pervert. I sighed, and he patted my knee to get my attention.

"If I were older, would you pursue a relationship with me? See where this goes? If we had met here, like we did, and I was just some acquaintance of my parents and past thirty, would you want me?"

I would, like I did now. No hesitation. I would want him, and I wouldn't even think twice about having a relationship with him. "Yes."

"Then why not now?"

"You're so young. Too young. I'm not even sure you know what you want, yet."

"My father had a family as this age. Based on the stories my father told me, you knew what you wanted at this age, too. Why do you think that because I'm a twenty-two year-old, I don't know my head from my ass?"

"I don't think that."

He took my hand between his before speaking. "You implied it." He huffed, then added, "I want you. I want relationship with you. You want the same with me." I looked at him, surprised, but stayed silent. "I know you do. You told me that in not so many words five minutes ago. The age gap is only a problem in your head, as I've just proven."

"Your parents…"

"My parents want me happy." His reply was quick, but assured. Looking at him, I knew he meant it. I wasn't as sure what his parents' reaction would be when they found out, though.

"I can't say your name when I come or I'd think about your father." That was a stupid thing to say, but he was breaking down all my defences, all my resolve. I was hanging by a thread, so close to telling him I wanted to try and see where this might go.

His body shook with laughter, and he moved to lay between my legs, front to front, his head against my chest, sneaking his arms around my waist as best he could. I knew I had lost the fight; there was no way I could deny him, or myself, this relationship. I wrapped my arms around him in surrender, and he sighed, content, as I softly pet his hair.

"You didn't seem to mind earlier when you said my name as you came. I heard you through the door, Carlisle." He was right. I hadn't thought about his father then, and apparently I hadn't whispered his name as I had thought. His tone was teasing, but there was seriousness to it, too. He was set on convincing me; he had been prepared and I now knew that I had never stood a chance against him.

I kissed his head. "You would be a good lawyer."

"Yeah? Good thing I'm studying to be one then, Mr. Cullen."

Life in Seattle was bound to be way more interesting from now on, but I now trusted that we could work, that we would work. And I was starting to understand what 'the one' meant.


End file.
